Heroes Are Born From Tragedies
by Northsky
Summary: Nobodies have met their ends, but what of their beginnings? This is one such tale, the creation of Demyx, the Melodious Nocturne, number IX of Organization XIII. [Companion Story to Once Again]


**Heroes Are Born From Tragedies**

**Companion story to Once Again. Uhhh I donno about this… people might like it or people might hate it… but I really wanted type this up. Demyx's old name took me awhile to think up. I tried to unscramble his name and in the end I got Myde, and Demy. I don't like either of them so I went and research baby names. Hope you like it!!**

**Dislaimer: I don't own Demyx a.k.a. Isas in this story! I do own Demyna, Meena, and Grandpa!! **

* * *

"I'll be here." She said quietly as she kissed the little brunet boy on the head. She looked into his deep blue eyes. "Don't worry, I'll be here." Smiling she wiped away the single tear that ran down his cheek. "Don't worry."

* * *

"Boy!" The young man didn't turn around. "Boy!" This time he looked toward the caller.

"I'm coming!!" He yelled back. The old man calling him didn't pay heed to his answer but put up his hand again, shaping them into a small horn in front of his mouth.

"Boy!!" He hollered. Running now, the young man jogged toward the bent old man with the billowing white beard in front of the small house. Panting, he stopped in front of the old man. He bends over to the old man's height in order to hear the elder. The blow on the head from the cane came quite unexpectedly.

"Ow! That hurts! What did you do that for, old geezer?" He whined, rubbing his head and jumping up to avoid the flying cane.

"How many times have I told you not to let your elders call you three times in a row?" The old man said, fuming and still waving his cane.

"But I came at the second call!" He tried to explain to the old man.

"Grandpa! Stop waving that stick around!" The voice of a girl made the elder put down the stick. A girl came out from inside the house. Her hair was darker than her foster brother's and her eyes were an icy blue.

"Meena! Tell Grandpa that I did come the second time he called!" The man whined again.

"Grandpa, he did come. Anyways brother, where are you going?" Meena smiled up at her older brother. Seeing the love struck look on her brother's face she giggled.

"Go on brother, she's waiting." Meena waved her brother away. Suddenly remembering something she called out, "Don't forget your guitar!" The man ran back, grabbed an ordinary looking guitar from the corner of the front porch, kissed his sister and grandpa on the forehead and left.

She sat there in all her glory, long golden locks billowing around her thin attractive body. The young man quietly watched her from a distance. She was popular with the people in the town, attractive, smart, and talented. Her songs brought over many different people across the land to this tiny town. She was the town's symbol, their hope. And she was his.

"Sing! Sing!" The children gathered around her requested innocently. Smiling, she closed her eyes and opened her mouth. A wordless melody spilled from her lips. The whole town went quiet as this earthbound angel sang of heaven. The old ones remembered the blissful time when they were children; the workers imagined a paradise where there is no work, the beggars in the street corners dreamed of a full stomach, and visions of toys and fairytales filled the little one's head as she sang. The young man, he dreamed of her soft touch on his chest, her hair tickling his face as she lay by him and the smile she flashed at him when they are with company, the smile that was reserved only for him. His knees went weak at the thought of her.

Slowly the song ended, the old ones and workers went back to work, the beggars went back to begging, the children remained by her side, dancing to the song that was still fresh in their minds. The young man walked forward quietly, bent down and gently kissed her on her left temple, making her turn around in surprise.

"Hullo stranger." He whispered in her ear. She laughed, sending a shiver of delight down his spine.

"Hello, Isas." She said. He sat down next to her and showed her the guitar. She smiled at the sight of it, for it was her favorite part of the day.

"Let's entertain them." He suggested to the women and stung his guitar, letting his fingers fly across the strings. She opened her mouth and started singing again. And so work was again stopped for the day.

* * *

"Isas." Her whisper made him turn. They lay on the sand of the beach, listening as the waves pounded restlessly on the golden sand. The old guitar lay next to the pair of lovers, worn from use. Looking into her hazel-green eyes he pulled her closer.

"What is it Demyna?" He muttered sleepily into her ear. All that guitar playing and singing wore him out. Demyna looked at the slender musician before her. His brunet color hair hid his mysterious light blue eyes. She drank in the sight of his face and his body with her eyes, like a drinker that could never get enough.

"Isas, don't leave." Isas raised his eyebrow and looked at her. _Mommy, don't leave. _The words echoed across his head and for a moment the young man's eyes glazed over from the memory.

"Isas! What's wrong?" She looked at him worriedly, grabbed him by the shoulders and starting shaking him gently. "Isas? Isas?"

"_You're not worthy." The tall figure told the little boy. "You're not worthy of anybody.. Not me, not your grandpa, not your mom." _

"_W-why?" Tears ran down the boy's eyes. "Why?" He said a bit louder, clutching on to the tall man's hand. _

"_Stop crying. The neighbors will hear you. Stop crying. You're an unwanted child, that's why you're unworthy. You are a nobody." The tall man said to the boy before roughly shaking the boy's hand off and walking away—for the last time. _

"_Don't listen to him, Isas." The motherly figure picked up the tearstained boy from the floor and carried him upstairs to the big bed that she shared with the man who left. Putting him down gently, she tucked him in. _

"_Do you know what Isas means?" She whispered softly to him while rubbing the little boy's back. The little boy shook his head, light blue eyes watching the woman before him._

"_Isas means worthy." She said. "Do you know why I named you Isas?" Again the boy shook his head. _

"_I named you Isas because I know you are worthy. I know that my baby is capable of big things, and worthy." The boy watched his beloved mother; a few tears still remained on his red puffy cheeks. The woman kept rubbing the boy's back, slowly sending him off into sleep. _

"_Mommy?" The woman looked at her son. "What is it Isas?" She cooed at him._

"_Mommy, don't leave." The little boy's comment made the women pause. His words brought more tears to his eyes and the sobbing returned. "M-mommy, d-don't l-leave. Don't leave like d-daddy." The little boy sobbed violently. The woman picked the boy up again and held him in her arms, shaking him and quietly calming him down. _

"_I'll be here." She said quietly as she kissed the little boy on the head. She looked into his deep blue eyes. "Don't worry, I'll be here." Smiling she wiped away the single tear that ran down his cheek. "Don't worry." _

"She lied." He muttered. "She lied." Demyna stared at him with surprise and worry as tears started running down his blue eyes.

"Isas! Isas! Snap out of it! Please!" Seeing the man before her crying brought tears to her eyes too. "Snap out of it." She cried, hands clutched tightly around his shirt, shaking violently. Her crying seemed to bring Isas out of his trance. Surprised to see his lover crying he gently pried her iron clutch off his shirt, then held her shivering body close.

"I'm sorry Demyna. I didn't mean to make you cry, I'm sorry. Please Demyna stop crying." He whispered in her ear, trying to make her feel better and feeling bitterly ashamed for making her cry.

"I'll be here." He kissed her hair. "Don't worry. I'll be here. I won't leave." Clutching her, he whispered half to her and half to himself. "Don't worry."

* * *

"Brother! How was your day?" Meena beamed at him the moment he stepped into the house. His upset and guilty face told her everything. She stopped smiling, walked up to him and held his hand.

"What's wrong Isas? Can you tell me?" Her eyes scanned Isas' face, looking for any clue that might tell her what went wrong. He sighed and opened his mouth to begin.

"Wait." She stopped him and pulled him to the kitchen Sitting him down in a chair she poured them both some hot chocolate that was waiting in a kettle. "Now tell me." She said seriously as she sat down across from him, blowing on her hot chocolate. Isas traced the rim of the mug, watching the white tendrils of smoke lazily swirl up. He looked at his younger sister who was only 13 but more mature than anyone he knew. He can confine to her.

"I made Demyna cry." He said quietly as if confessing his sins to his little sister. Meena didn't cry out, didn't yell at him, didn't scold him, instead she sipped her hot chocolate quietly, waiting for him to continue.

"I zoned off, I-I remembered the day Father left, I scared her so bad. I made her cry." He hung his head, overburdened by the shame and guilt. "I made her cry so bad." He whispered. "I'm unworthy for her. Unworthy." He muttered the word over and over again, making sure that it stays imprinted in his head.

"Brother, stop!" Meena yelled, breaking through his brother's trance. "Stop it! You are worthy! Mother says so herself! Are you gonna let something like that get in your way? You are not someone who would just hide and wrinkle away in a corner and whine about not being worthy! I know you aren't, so stop it!" Getting up she marched over to her bewildered looking brother and grabbed his chin, making him look at her in the eye. Her icy blue eyes met his soft blue ones drove her message home.

"You promise not to whine about that anymore?" She asked him fiercely, her eyes piercing him. He nodded slowly, agreeing to her request. Meena smiled and the storm behind her eyes died down.

"You are worthy, brother. Always." She held his head close in an embrace, seeing that he was still sitting down and she was standing.

"Thank you Meena." He whispered as he leaned against her.

"Ok now go say hi to Grandpa." She said pulling him up and sending him into the living room.

"Hey Gramps." He said as he walked in. His Grandpa laid dozing on his old recliner chair, the reading lamp still on, and an opened book in his lap. Smiling, he grabbed a thin blanket draped across the couch and placed it over the old man. His Grandpa was the one who stuck by Meena and him when their mother died. He was the one who taught him how to play the guitar when he was a child. He was the one who started his passion for music. He loved his Grandpa more than anything. Turning off the reading lamp he turned to leave. Suddenly he felt a tug on his shirt. Turning around he saw that his Grandpa was awake holding onto his shirt.

"You little scoundrel, coming home so late and worrying your poor sister." His Grandpa muttered. Isas laughed and replied, "Gramps, I always come home around this time. Besides, Meena doesn't worry about me." Reaching over he tried to pull his shirt back.

"I heard what Meena said." His Grandpa's words stopped him. Crouching down so he was at the same height with his Grandpa, he waited for what his elder is going to say.

"Isas…" His Grandpa sighed.

"If you are going to give me another lecture, I already promised Meena that I would stop." Isas cut him off.

"You want to be something great right?" Isas stared at his Grandpa, confused. "You want to be a hero right? A hero to Meena, to Demyna?" Isas looked away from Grandpa's stern gaze, and nodded.

"I want them to look up to me. I want to make myself worthy. I want to do something to make them respect me." He muttered. Turning around he looked his Grandpa in the eye. "Yes, I want to be a hero."

"Don't be foolish, boy. Heroes are born from tragedies." His Grandpa advised him.

"You have a strong heart, Isas. You don't need action to be a hero. You are a hero in your heart. Your music is your weapon. Meena and Demyna respects you without you wanting to go out to do stupid dangerous stuffs. You need to use your heart for once, not your head." All this talking seemed to wear the old man out, lying back in his seat and closed his eyes.

"Play something for me, Isas." Isas went to pick up his guitar, sat down next to his Grandpa and strummed it. Soon his fingers are flying across the strings, creating music with only his fingers and an old guitar.

* * *

He promised them, but he didn't keep to it. He lied. He couldn't stop thinking about it. His father's words lingered in his head, biting and gnawing. _You're not worthy, not worthy, not worthy._

"Shut up." He muttered to himself and smacked himself on the head. He was on the way to see Demyna, guitar in hand. Rounding the corner he saw her sitting next to the town well, this time alone.

"Demy." He whispered once he got close. She looked up and smiled. Pulling on his hand she sat him down next to her, and placed her head on his shoulder.

"What's troubling you, sweet?" She asked him unexpectedly. He turned his head to look at her.

"What makes you think I'm troubled?" He asked quietly.

"You eyes told me everything, Isas. Today they are a cloudy blue. That means that you are worrying about something." She told him.

"I'm not troubled." He lied to her. She lifted her head. She knew that he was lying and she doesn't like it. She kept quiet though, knowing that he will tell her eventually. Isas isn't someone who keeps his feelings to himself. After some time of silence, Isas sighed.

"Do you think I'm worthy Demyna?" He looked at her, his face serious.

"Worthy of what?"

"Worthy of you." He asked. She looked at him, her face as equally serious as his.

"Yes. Yes you are." She answered him, and put her head back on his shoulder. Opening her mouth she started singing. It was a healing song. It soothed his head, and his heart, calmed him down. _Yes, yes you are worthy._

"I love you, Isas"

* * *

They came during the night.

He was sitting on the roof outside of his room, stringing his guitar and thinking up that new song he wanted to get ready for Demyna next day. Suddenly the roof shook. The ground rippled and groaned. Isas jumped up, trying to find his balance. _An earthquake? _The wind blew, knocking Isas down. Scrambling for his bedroom window he climbed in.

"Isas!" His sister's distant voice could be heard from downstairs. She ran in with Granpa still in her nightgown.

"Look out the window!!" She yelled at him over all the trembling and noise. He stuck his head out the window and looked towards the sky. There was a hole in the sky. _What the?_ Pieces of land, trees, houses, and everything else were being sucked into the void in the night sky.

"What's going on!!!" He screamed at his sister, before another tremble brought all of them crashing to the floor.

"We gotta get out of here! The house isn't strong enough to support all this shaking!" His Grandpa yelled, crawling towards the door. Isas grabbed his guitar before leaving. He had a feeling he was going to need it.

Kicking open the door, the three of them filed outside. They walked towards the beach, stopping to brace themselves for each tremble. Suddenly Grandpa stopped.

"What's the matter Gramps? Something wrong?" Isas asked, fearing for the worse.

"W-what—" His Grandpa's voice was filled with fear. Following his Grandpa's gaze he gasped at what he saw. Little ugly black creatures came up from the ground, writhing and trembling. They were all black except for their eyes. Their yellow greedy eyes watched them intently, like a lion watching his prey.

Isas pushed back Grandpa and Meena, protecting them. Holding up his tatty guitar as a makeshift shield, he watched as more and more appeared. Suddenly one of them jumped, and with that the rest jumped. Yelling from shock Isas swung his guitar at the first creature, knocking it out of his way. Another one just replaced it. Swinging his guitar this way and that he managed to clear some room.

"Gramps! Meena! Run!!" He yelled at the others, still whacking.

"Play! Play your song Isas!" His Grandpa's voice pierced through the group of shadow creatures. "Play it!!" Following his Grandpa's advice, Isas began playing. The creatures faltered, and stopped. They like it. Still playing he caught up with his Grandpa and sister.

"What are they?" He asked them, breathless while his fingers went on restlessly.

"I don't know, but we have to get out of here. To the beach. Our boat is there" His Grandpa grunted. Isas suddenly stopped, though his fingers continued. Meena turned around, suddenly more scared than ever.

"Come on boy, you can't play forever." Grandpa urged Isas on.

"I can't. The village people need my help. I can hold these creatures back. I have to go get Demyna too." He whispered.

"Don't be foolish, boy! Don't be a hero!" Grandpa yelled, frustrated.

"Please don't big brother." Meena begged. Isas looked at them and smiled, shaking his head.

"I'm sorry." He whispered and ran.

"Isas!! Isas! Come back!!" His grandpa's and sister's yells cause him to wince, bringing tears to his eyes.

"BIG BROTHER!!!"

* * *

The village was a mess. There was a fire going on. The little creatures were everywhere. People's screams filled his ear, and the smell of blood overwhelmed his nose. For a few minutes his fingers stopped moving, and hung dead from his hand. The creatures started moving in. Blocking out the smell and sight he started playing again. The creatures stopped what they were doing, watching him. Walking on and playing he searched for Demyna.

"Demy! Demy!!" He yelled as he played. Telling each villager he saw to run to the beach, he continued playing. There was no sign of Demyna.

His fingers were getting tired; he switched to a slower melody. The bodies he saw on the way made his fingers stiff and clammy, making him play worse. He could see that the creatures are getting restless.

Suddenly he heard a scream. It was something he wished he would never hear. As suddenly as the scream started it stopped, cut off. Running forward he stopped playing. The creatures snapped out of their trance, and jumped off to attack more people.

"Demy! Demyna!" He screamed her name over and over, wishing, hoping that she would answer. He rounded the corner; there she was, in front of the well where they were sitting that afternoon.

"Demyna!!" He yelled running forward and swung at the creatures advancing on her, knocking them away from her fragile looking body.

"Demyna! You ok?" He cried, turning her around and holding her in his arm. She looked terrible. Her hair was stained with blood, her cheeks pale, and her once beautiful hazel eyes now mad with fear and pain. She didn't look at him. She looked everywhere but at him. He couldn't stand the look in her eyes and studied her injuries instead. It made him wince, seeing all that blood.

"Come on Demy, we have to get to the boats. Grandpa and Meena are waiting." He whispered in her ear. She didn't respond, but her eyes continued darting around filled with fear. Suddenly she opened her mouth to whisper something. He couldn't hear her. Leaning in closer he felt her twitch, and went still. With wide eyes he stared at her, willing her to start moving.

She didn't.

The creatures moved in on them, trapping him. He didn't care. All he saw was her, his precious, precious Demyna, still warm, and unmoving in his arms.

* * *

It was dark.

He couldn't see anything. Where- where is he? Where is her? _Who? _

"Hey, I think we just found number 9." The voice was light hearted and lazy sounding.

"The superior will be pleased." This voice was cold, harsh and deep. He forced himself to open his eyes. He was sitting in the middle of a ruined village, with a woman in his arms. The sun blinded his eyes. Who is he? Who is she?

"Hey, you're awake." The voice made him turn. There stood two people, dressed in black cloaks with hoods over their head. Turning back he looked at the cold body in his arms. Blond hair, green-hazel eyes, lifeless.

"What's your name?" The shorter of the two asked him. He didn't respond, didn't bother to even turn around. There was a hollowness in his chest. It hurts.

"Hello, you still there?" The hooded figure bent down and waved his hand in front of his face. The young man hung his head and noticed his hair; they were blond, like the woman in his arms. He had a feeling they weren't blond before. He felt the woman's hair, it was soft, so soft, like his.

"What's her name?" The hooded one asked a different question this time, seeing that all he did was stared at her and fingered her hair. He looked at the hooded figure. He opened his mouth to say that he doesn't know.

"Demyna." He whispered, surprised. The name just popped out. The figure cocked his head as if thinking. Suddenly he pointed at him.

"Demyx." He looked at the figure with surprise. "Your name is going to be Demyx, since you don't seem to remember your old name. D-E-M-Y-X, got it memorized?" Thinking about it, Demyx nodded.

"Come number 9. The organization and the superior would want to meet you." The taller figure turned opened a black portal out of thin air with his gloved hands and stepped in.

"Come on Demyx." The one who named him got up and followed the taller one. Demyx stared at the woman, Demyna. Letting her go made him uncomfortable, but he had to or else he would be left behind. Closing her eyes with his hand he got up and left her there without a backward glance.

**

* * *

Depressing… well anyways review please, and if you really want to flame…. then your flames will be doused by Demyx's water clones!!**


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